


A Day in the Life

by Half_PintGladiator



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Moze has ptsd, Oneshot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slice of Life, former Mozara, friendly exs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22651936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Half_PintGladiator/pseuds/Half_PintGladiator
Summary: Moze is a recent army veteran adapting to life as a civilian once again. Her day-to-day life feels like a routine, but it's anything but average. Especially if her ex, Amara has anything to say about it.
Relationships: moze & amara, moze/ember
Kudos: 5





	A Day in the Life

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a fic writing challenge. I had way too much fun with this.
> 
> I love the idea of Moze being a grumpy little gremlin that struggles with the normal world.

Moze blinked wearily. She groaned when her phone continued buzzing, its screen lighting up her entire bedroom. It was 6 am, and only one person would be bold enough to call her that early. As soon as she accepted the call, she let the phone drop on the pillow beside her.

“Heya, Amara.”

“Oh, now you’re awake.”

“Shaddup, I don’t need to be moving until six thirty at the latest.”

“Oh right, you have that group thing.”

Group. By that Amara meant her veteran’s support group. They met once a week to help decompress and for some, like her, readapt to life outside of the military. She actually liked going to group, not that she would tell anyone that.

“And that date you set me up on.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Uh, I didn’t exactly ask for your help, I think I’ve been doin’ just fine.”

There was a loud scoff over the line. Moze ran her hand over her face, rubbing a tender spot between her eyebrows.

“You say that, and yet at least once a week you’re hanging out with those robot nerds and the old geezer at the tech shop.”

“What? I like robot fighting.”

“Your Iron Bear is a glorified Roomba.”

“A highly advanced Roomba, thank you very much.”

“Moze, it has a knife duct taped to it.”

“I switched it out for some metal straps and bolts, it’s fine.”

“And how many times did your ass get kicked by that new kid and her edgy robot?”

Despite knowing that Amara couldn’t see her, Moze rolled away from the phone, lips pursing. She waited. Admittedly, she knew that their relationship would have never worked. But she couldn’t wrap her head around why her ex stayed. Or how they had become best friends.

“Acha, you’re such a mess.”

“I know.”

“Well, you try to stay out of trouble.”

“Pfft. Says you.” 

Moze disconnected first. She blew out a loud sigh, rolling back to the other side of the bed. Yeah, okay, Amara had a point. Her bed had been empty for the better part of a year. So what? She was busy. She had hobbies, work, group… Like five friends. Okay, her life wasn’t the best, but at least it was stable. Mostly stable.

She swung her legs out of her bed. Her gaze lingered on the mirror a little longer than usual. At least she didn’t have bags under her eyes any more. Her undercut could use a trim, but she looked better than she had when she came back from the war. The nightmares were getting a little better. 

One and a half years. It was hard to believe she had been home that long-- and still struggling with the day-to-day life. 

Moze sighed, finally pushing herself up off of her bed. She had to get ready for group. 

\--  
The veteran’s group met in a community center, not too far from her apartment. It was a surprisingly warm and inviting building, all soft tan sandstone.

Moze was usually one of the first to arrive. Still punctual to a fault. She found Lilith over by the coffee maker. 

“Well if it isn’t the bear cub. How’re ya doin’, killer?”

“Tired.”

“Same. Got anything interesting going on this week?”

“I’ve got a date tonight, if that counts.”

Lilith lifted an eyebrow, a wry smirk twisting her lips. “Ohooho, holding out now, huh?”

“Nah, you never ask.”

Lilith snorted through a mouthful of donut. She seemed to regain her composure quickly.

“See ya over there, killer. And eat a donut or somethin’, you’re still kinda skinny.”

\--

Moze glanced around the circle. Lilith cocked her chin at her. Lorelei sat with their arms folded, Rhys to their side looking a little ashamed. Axton was talking, using a few vague hand gestures. Athena was sat across from her, arms folded. Athena rarely spoke. Moze had a slight crush on her. Had being the operative word.

She found herself starting to stare off into space. Axton’s voice became a gentle drone. Her eyes started to glaze over. Somewhere in the background of her mind she heard the muted sounds of gunfire.

“Hey, bear cub, you still with us?”

Moze jerked, snapping back into reality. She swore under her breath.

“Yeah, guess I must’ve zoned out.”

When she looked up she found nothing but sympathetic looks on her companions’ faces. Athena nodded at her. 

“Ah shit.”

She downed the last of her cup of coffee, uncrossing her legs. Her elbows dug in just above her knee.

“I’m still having a few problems with sleep. The nightmares come and go, ya know? I’m still going to work, still doing my usual stuff. I… yeah, other than work and the warehouse I don’t really go anywhere loud. I got a white noise machine for the silence too.”

Her group leader wore a sympathetic look. She liked him immensely. 

“And how do you feel when you have an episode?”

“Bad. Like I see my therapist once a week, I’ve made progress, but I still feel guilty. There shoulda been more of us leaving that bay. Not just me.”

Athena shifted in her seat. She uncrossed her well-defined forearms so that she was leaning toward Moze. 

“I know how you feel, Moze. Perfect memory, I remember their faces still. And everything leading up to that moment, and it… it sucks. All you can do is hang in there. Ground yourself. Find your own peace.” 

“I keep trying everyday.”

“Right, and I think we’re at a good place to start winding down. Are there any last thoughts that any of you would like to share? Any words of encouragement?”

“Yeah, and this goes for all of you. We’re family here. You need anything, you call.” Lilith’s smile was genuine, and in a way nearly breathtaking. 

Moze did her best not to make eye contact with Rhys. It was awkward enough to have met her boss through a therapy group, let alone see him and his secretary on a regular basis. 

“I’d like you all to do some self-reflecting and bring in your journals next week. We’ve got a lot to cover.”

She got to her feet first, giving everyone a curt nod. She hated it when Rhys tried to offer her a ride to work. She only drove on rainy or cold days-- it was far too nice a day for her to drive. 

\--

Work was a routine. Clock in, wander to her work station. Set up her tools with a cup of coffee in hand. She traced her finger over a blueprint of the newest weapon line she was assembling. 

It wasn’t the prettiest gun, but it was going to be a boon for whatever army adopted them. If she was the kind of person to appreciate irony, she would have been laughing. Instead, she sighed as she laid out the blueprint on her workbench. 

She let her mind wander off as she tinkered with screws and other small mechanical pieces. 

_Ah shit, I’ve got that date tonight. I gotta dress nice. Fuck, what do I even wear?_

She unlocked her phone’s screen, shooting a quick text to Amara. She had forgotten where the date was set to be-- and the better part of dating etiquette. 

A tiny screw rolled off of her workbench. She swore. 

_Damn it, Strongfork’s gonna ream me out if I lose more of these damn screws._

A second glance at the blueprint. A second count of her screws. She huffed a sigh as she slipped out of her chair, magnet in hand. 

“Oi, Moserah, you there?”

She jerked to attention, slamming her head on the bottom of the solid wood bench. A stream of curses fell from her lips.

“Ah fuck!”

“Er, what are you doin’ down there?”

“Lost another damn screw, that’s what.”

She caught a tiny view of teal hair hanging under the lip of her desk. When Moze finally emerged, magnet in hand, she caught her boss’ secretary watching her, an amused look on their lips.

“Is, uh, something wrong?”

“Oh, no, just wanted to check in with you. Rhys seems a little bummed out that you said no to the ride.”

“Can’t do it. Not with that awful dad stache.” 

Lorelei grinned. 

“I keep bloody telling him.”

Moze glanced at the thermos of coffee on her desk. How Lorelei chugged that thing in the day and lived amazed her. 

“He has you do an awful lot of checking in.”

“I get bored and he talks too much.”

“Ah, gotcha.”

Lorelei turned their attention to the half-finished gun. They checked a few of the components, taking interest in a computer chip situated close to the trigger.

“What’s that for?”

“Supposed to help targeting, onboard computer directs the bullets. Tracker rounds, is what we’re callin’ them. Lock on and hit the same target over and over. More efficient, really.”

“Hm. And what do you think of this?”

Moze nearly dropped her screwdriver. Her lips drew tight. 

“I dunno. I don’t really like it, but, well, war’s evolving.”

Lorelei made a soft noise in the back of their throat. They nodded. 

“Well, don’t let me distract you.”

Lorelei’s vivid magenta jacket was visible almost clear across the factory floor. 

Moze was thankful the prototype rooms were quiet as opposed to the actual floor below her. The first time she had set foot in the Atlas factory, she had a panic attack from the sheer cacophony of the factory floor. She avoided the testing fire room like the plague.

“War changes.” She muttered softly. 

She tried avoiding thoughts about her service. The thought of the battlefield was enough to leave her on edge for hours. And yet, she could build the weapons without a qualm. 

Atlas was strictly military and law enforcement use. They had pioneered newer, safer riot guns. New safety equipment for soldiers, robots for bomb detection. Part of her was proud of her work. The other part yearned to be far away from war and its destruction.

\--

Rhys was waiting for her as she went to leave the factory. He always reminded her of some kind of nervous rodent. He fidgeted. 

“Oh hey, I just wanted to check in on the status of the prototype.”

“We’re gonna make the deadline for testing. I have a few more adjustments to make and it should be good to go for firing.”

“You’re fast.”

“I don’t waste time.” A lie. 

“Good, good. Uh, is everything okay? You’re pretty quiet.”

“Oh, yeah. Lots goin’ on.” 

That wasn’t a lie. She had semifinals in the robot battles in two weeks. She had a Bunkers and Badasses night at Lilith’s on Saturday. The date that night, Friday-- and if the date was a bust, she had a date with her online bestie, FL4K. And at some point during the week she had a lunch date with Amara. Plenty of activities. And surprisingly, very little stress.

“Oh, well if you ever need any help--”

“Gotcha, Mr. Strongfork. I hate to bail, but I have a date to get ready for.”

She gave him a casual wave, walking quickly toward the main road. Rhys stood at a loss. Moze grinned to herself. 

Promethea Heights was an up and coming neighborhood, an area she felt more than safe in-- and if she didn’t feel safe, well, she always left a knife in her work locker. Force of habit. 

In fact, the only thing that ever really made her nervous was the cheap eats near her apartment. Only worrisome due to how addicting it was. Maybe Amara had a point after all...

\--

Freshly showered, Moze stood staring into her closet. Her olive green towel started slipping from around her chest. She didn’t bother trying to catch it. Amara had sent her a recommendation, but she hated it. What was the point of dressing up all fancy if it really wasn’t who she was? 

Who the hell did she have to impress?

Regardless, she caught herself sighing dramatically. She settled on an olive green button up and a pair of black jeans. The sleeves rolled slightly at the edge of her bicep. 

Moze grimaced at her reflection after she adjusted her watch. She popped open another button on her shirt until it formed a v over her collarbone. She still wore her dog tags.

She flopped on the edge of her bed, skimming over the last message Amara had sent her. Location and her date’s name. Moxxi’s. And Ember. 

Sucking in her breath, she sent another desperate text to Amara. The response was a simple ‘no’. Moze rolled her eyes and sighed. She had ten minutes until she had to leave. She took a few deep and steadying breaths before letting out a loud groan. 

Fine, she’d go, but she wasn’t going to be happy. She’d rather be up all night talking about robotics and animals with FL4K. Or even bullshitting with Lilith. One last text to Amara before she gathered her wallet and keys. 

_You owe me if this is a waste._

Her phone dinged. _It won’t be. ;)_

She decided not to reply. 

\--

Moxxi’s was one of those bars that didn’t really feel like a bar. Sometimes there was more club styled music, and yeah, the lighting was dim, but it was surprisingly cosy. Moxxi herself made you feel right at home, if not slightly awkward because it seemed everyone had a crush on the MILF. 

The bar was slow for a Friday night, the music still soft. But it was early. 

Moze found herself in a booth close enough to the door that she could watch patrons come and go. Moxxi strutted up to her table, a smile on her crimson painted lips. 

“You’re not normally the booth kind of girl, sugar. You expecting someone?”

She was a tiny bit embarrassed to admit that she was a regular. Regular enough that she and Moxxi knew each other by name.

“I’ve got a date coming, Moxxi.”

“Are you’re meeting here?” Moxxi’s eyebrow rose. 

Moze shrunk into herself a little. At least Moxxi didn’t comment on her shirt.

“Blind date. Amara set everything up.”

The pitying look she received spoke volumes. Moze smirked as Moxxi sashayed away. The bartender was back a few minutes later with a pint glass.

“On the house. I know how much Amara likes to get you in over your head.”

Maybe it was a bad sign that the bartender knew her that well. She started to consider finding a new bar to hang out in. 

She cautiously sipped the beer in front of her. A dark, spiced stout, probably one of Moxxi’s custom brews. Admittedly, she’d miss the custom beers and the potent cocktails she could get at Moxxi’s. 

Moze barely had time to take a second sip when a woman stepped into the bar. She nearly dropped her glass. Long legs, curvy. A few facial scars and a shaved head. She walked with confidence. Moze was certain she was going to die when the woman strolled up to her table.

“Bonjour, I ‘appen to be looking for someone named Moze, and you fit her description.”

_Oh god, Amara, what did you say about me? Please not short and sad again._

Moze realized her jaw was hanging open when she heard Moxxi’s giggle over the lounge music.

“Uh, yeah, that’s me. You’re Ember, right?”

“Oui.” Bright blue eyes sparkled in her handsome face. 

She couldn’t quite remember how to breathe. Moze banged her knee as she leapt to her feet, hand thrust out to shake Ember’s. She was so flustered that she didn’t realize the hand offered to her was a prosthetic. At least not until she looked down at the carbon fiber digits. 

“Oh, shit, I’m so--”

Ember wore a good natured smile. 

“Non, non, do not be embarrassed, cherie. I am quite used to it.”

That left her at a total loss for words. Warmth flooded her cheeks. Ember’s smile was still in place. Moze hovered awkwardly alongside the booth as her date settled into the booth across from her. She only started to relax when Ember motioned to her to take her seat again. Her soft laugh made Moze’s heart do a backflip. She was even more thankful when Moxxi stepped up to the booth.

Ember ordered a cognac. Moxxi winked as she offered Moze a glass of water. The flush spread down Moze’s neck and chest. 

“So, uh, how do you know Amara?”

“She and I have a similar interest. I make ze fire, she makes the flashy entrance.”

“You do the pyro for her gym?”

“Oui, and ze smoke bombs for her, how you say, hobby?”

“I always wondered how she got those. Do you, uh, do the pyro for those wrestler guys too?” 

“On occasion. Pyro is my passion.”

Moze settled back in the booth, occasionally sipping at her stout. 

“Oh. So what do you do outside of pyro?”

“I am, how you say, a dancer.” The way she said it made Moze’s heart do an odd little dance.

Moxxi set the drinks on the table between them. Moze nearly choked on her stout, and was thankful that she caught herself before she started sputtering.

“That’s… that’s awesome.” 

“What is it that you do?”

“I work for Atlas, I’m the prototyper. Sometimes I do service work.”

“Non, I meant, what is it that makes ze fires of your heart blaze?”

The flush was back in full force. She grimaced.

“I uh, I like building robots. And uh, competing with them.”

“Ohhh, c’est magnifique!” 

“You don’t think it’s dumb?”

“Non, your passion is not as you say dumb, if it makes you feel alive.”

Moze felt a smile creep across her face.

\--

The conversation followed them from the bar and through dinner. It only stopped in Moze’s bedroom, when their lips were far too preoccupied for words.

\--

The next night Moze swaggered her way into Lilith’s apartment, dice in hand and a grin on her face. She caught the other dungeon crawlers staring and the pointed stare at the rather large hickey on her throat.

“Good date, killer?”

“Great date. I have another next Friday.”

“What’s mystery girl’s name?”

“Ember.”

She caught Tina waggling her eyebrows at her. Moze blushed. 

“You’re gonna hafta dish, girrrlllll.” 

“Let’s just say that I think I could get used to this life.”


End file.
